Kingdom of the Cursed by Kerri Maniscalco

Author:Kerri Maniscalco [MANISCALCO, KERRI]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2021-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

Envy pushed open the ornate doors with exaggerated showmanship and stepped back, suddenly the gentleman, and allowed me to cross the threshold into his curiosities chamber first.

Dubious about his true intentions, I hesitated for a moment. I doubted he’d led me into a vampire nest, though anything was possible when it came to him.

Remembering the dagger at my thigh, I walked in and halted at the sight.

It wasn’t vampires waiting, but tall, shadowy giants, standing in place. The chamber was eerily close to a mental image I’d had when I’d first met Envy in the mortal world. Back then, I’d pictured humans posed and frozen on a macabre checkerboard. The floor we stood on now was not part of a game; it was simply made of black and white marble tiles. And the frozen beings were works of art, not mortals trapped by a sadistic prince of Hell.

Sculptures stood in silent welcome, some cast in bronze, others carved from marble. They were haunting, beautiful, so lifelike I had to reach out to be sure they were not made of flesh. I’d never been to a museum, but I’d seen illustrations in books and could not believe the size of his curiosities collection.

“Are you stunned into silence, or is the wine sloshing around your insides?”

I blinked, realizing I still stood rooted in place. “I had a strange sense of déjà vu.”

Envy’s attention flicked over my features, but he only lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “Many mortal museums and collections are fashioned after it. It’s unsurprising that it’s familiar.”

“I’ve never been to a museum.”

Which was enough of the truth to satisfy the truth spell. But I couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling of how I’d seen the flash of it all those months ago. I’d never been to this realm, or this royal demon House. Perhaps I had a latent seer talent that was starting to emerge.

According to Nonna, it wasn’t uncommon for magic to continue developing throughout a witch’s lifetime. It would also make sense that my newfound use of Source unlocked other magic. Latent talent or not, it wasn’t important. I shook myself back into the now.

The room was cavernous, enough for our steps to echo as we quietly moved to the foot of the first sculpture. A man wearing a winged helmet, bandolier, and not a stitch of clothing stood with one hand extended, holding the severed head of Medusa. A sword was gripped tightly in his other hand. Something about it made me sad.

Envy strolled over to the scene, his expression softening. “Perseus and Medusa. There are similar pieces in the mortal land, but nothing as exquisite as this. The sculptor captured his downcast eyes, his refusal to be turned to stone and cursed.”

“It’s stunning craftsmanship, but horrid.”

“Not all stories end happily, Emilia.”

I knew that. My life had taken unexpected twists, most of which weren’t ideal or for the better. We all had bones, if not full skeletons of heartache, in our closets. It hit me suddenly. I subtly looked at the demon prince.

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